


Barren of Promises

by AerithStormblessed



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:02:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27017755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AerithStormblessed/pseuds/AerithStormblessed
Summary: For every action, there is a reaction. If something is taken away, another must take its place; such is the balance of the Planet.
Relationships: Aerith Gainsborough/Cloud Strife, Tifa Lockhart/Barret Wallace, Tifa Lockhart/Cloud Strife, Zack Fair/Aerith Gainsborough, Zack Fair/Aerith Gainsborough/Cloud Strife, Zack Fair/Cloud Strife
Kudos: 5





	1. Author's Preface

Author’s Preface

This work is something I began over ten years ago, and recently decided to pick up and attempt to finish. It was originally on FF.net but I’ve decided to port it over and continue it here on AO3.

For anyone who has read the incomplete work on FF.net—the existing chapters remain mostly unchanged with two exceptions:

-I went back and adjusted Barrett’s speech.

-I’ve adjusted how Aerith ‘hears’ the planet. After some thought, it seems more natural for the planet to ‘speak’ without words.

There are occasional minor edits to speech, mostly just a tweak here or there to make a sentence sound better.

As far as pairings go… I will leave that up in the air and allow relationships to evolve over time as I write. Obviously the release of Remake is going to influence some things, but my internal outline is relatively set.

I hope you enjoy my work.


	2. A New Journey

The last thing that had registered into his mind was release. The skies opened up wide and suddenly, there they were. Those wings; that face. Not just another clone, but him, his former mentor, his own hero. Which, of course, could only mean one thing.

  
Still, the solidarity of it hadn't quite set in. It was like the feverish, hazy dreams he had dreamt in the midst of childhood illness; the kind of thing that your mind would cook up only while under the barrage of illness and several doses of painkillers.

  
What Zack Fair failed to realize that he had, indeed, received a heavy dose of something, but it was most certainly not painkillers.  
Pain. That was it. Shouldn't he feel it? Only moments ago, he had felt his body being ripped apart. He had seen more blood in those last few minutes than in his entire career as a SOLDIER. The hot, sticky sensation had covered his entire body, relieved only by the short sprinkle of rain that had timed itself so well with his demise.

  
Demise? Nah.

  
Why did he feel so funny all of a sudden? How was it possible to feel? Was he a hero? He'd like to think so. After all, he had saved Cloud.

  
Cloud? Cloud who?

  
Everything was surreal. Angeal's face was within his view, and his hand extended out. He reached, but suddenly, the image before him shattered, as if the hand of God himself came down and smashed it before his very eyes. Blackness surrounded his vision.

  
_Someone's waiting for you. Get up._

  
What was happening? That pain … it began to spread. Just as soon as he forgot that ripping, burning sensation in his chest, it had returned ten fold.

  
_You have no place in the lifestream. Not yet. There's more to be done._

  
He thought, 'Why?' Hadn't he done his part? Why couldn't he rest now? His body was so tired and beaten, but the darkness began to lighten and the pain spread further. A dizzying, nauseating feeling spread through his head and Zack began to crack his eyes open, wincing at the blinding, scorching light from the sky above.

  
_You're stronger than this. Get up. Don't you remember what I told you?_

  
In his mind, he began to remember, all at once, the events that had unfolded only hours prior. Faces surfaced and voices floated through his head seemingly all at once, overwhelming him. The barrage of bullets, the shouts of the infantry all around him, his last stand, Cloud's wrenching cry…

  
Her face.

The last thing that he had thought of before seemingly giving up the ghost; her voice, her laugh.

His broken promise.

  
_Embrace your dreams. Now's your chance, so get up._

  
Zack's eyes shot open and he let out a hoarse, agonizing scream.

________________________________________

The rain had ceased long ago, but Aerith couldn't shake the cold, empty feeling that had so suddenly overcome her. She was meant to go up to the plate today, just like any other day, but today… she just couldn't bring herself to do so. Something was wrong. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, and the Planet, which normally was abuzz in her mind, had been strangely silent to her questions.

  
Kneeling on the moist wooden floor of her church, hands wrenched in her lap, she stared blankly at her flowers, the little miracles that defied fate itself just by merely existing in the barren slums of Midgar. For nearly five years now, this was how she spent her free time. To simply reminisce about those days, the happier days that seemed ages ago, when he sat with her in this very church; it brought her a small flicker of joy and hope. But at the end of every day, she had to face the harsh reality that those days were long past, and all that physically remained of his memory with her was the worn pink ribbon tied around her braid.

  
Aerith refused to believe that he was gone. She refused to think that the letters she had written had gone unanswered. Lost in the mail, perhaps? He never answered his phone again, not after their last conversation, which was short and had ended with an empty promise to visit and a sinking feeling deep in her heart that still hadn't gone away. But even that could be explained, right? Everything had to have an explanation, but her heart wanted to cling to every excuse she had except for what was likely to be truth: that he was dead.

To be honest, she still expected the doors in her church to open and for him to saunter on in like he used to, sheepish grin on his face and a twinkle in his eye. Despite all odds, she wanted nothing more than to hold onto that last shred of hope that Zack would come back to her, but that hope seemed to die a little more every day, just as a little bit of Aerith seemed to die as well.

________________________________________

"Dead."

  
Rude sighed and looked over at Reno, whose usual cocky attitude was suddenly more reserved; a strange thing for someone like him.  
"Those fucks. They weren't supposed to kill them. How the hell do we explain this to Tseng now?" Reno leaned back in the seat of the helicopter he had just landed, letting out an exasperated sigh and leaning his head up. "Can't follow a god damn order… what good was it all for?"

  
"…" Rude looked down at his hands, always a man of few words. They sat in silence for several minutes before Tseng's voice called out over their headsets.

  
_"Reno, Rude, location?"_

  
Reno flinched at the interruption, "Just got back, boss. News isn't so good though, but can't blame us for that one. Blame Heidegger and his band of fuckheads."

  
_"What are you talking about, Reno?"_

  
"…the targets have been eliminated by the infantry before the Turks could retrieve them." Rude spoke without emotion.

  
There was a moment of quiet, then Tseng spoke up. _"Did you retrieve the bodies?"_

  
"…what? Of course not!"

  
 _"Your orders were to retrieve the samples, Reno. If they're truly dead … they still must be brought back."_ There was a pause, then Tseng added, _"The least I can do for them is offer a proper burial. Retrieve the bodies and return to headquarters."_ Then there was a click.

  
"Tch..." Reno sighed, before starting the helicopter up once more. "What are we now, grave diggers?"

________________________________________

Sitting up had been quite a task, but he had accomplished it somehow. Zack looked like something that had crawled out from under a train wreck, and with these wounds, he might as well have.

  
A few Cure spells had helped ease the immediate pain, but he would need much more help before he was back to a hundred percent again. Zack gazed out over the horizon at the towering city of Midgar. He was close. If he could make it back in, he could get to her.

  
Something flickered in his heart, and he willed his strength to return faster. If he could make those last few miles into the city, he'd be home free. And in any case, in this condition, he shouldn't stay in the wastelands much longer, lest he risk being stranded her after dark. With his injuries, and without any weapon, he'd fall prey to monsters too quickly for his liking.

  
' _Okay, let's do this.'_

Carefully stretching his arms out, he began the rough task of standing up. His chest was on fire and dried blood irritated his skin, and his legs weren't much better off. Zack was forcing this, albeit slowly, but it was working. He bent his legs and, using the ground for leverage, slowly eased himself up onto his feet. Blood rushed to his head and he became dizzy, but he held ground for a minute until the dizzy spell passed.

  
_'Allright, there's step one…'_

Taking a deep breath, and grasping the materia in his hand, he cast another Cure spell, giving him just a little bit more energy. Feeling a bit more confident and pleased that he'd managed to ward off the pain (even temporarily), he began to walk slowly toward the city. By the look of the sun, he had about four hours before sunset, and three miles to the city limits. Even with a slow pace, he should be able to make it just fine.

  
He began with a slow shuffle, limping slightly with his right leg, and after a few minutes his gait improved into a steady pace with small, carefully placed steps. He took care not to step on any rocks or anything that could risk him tripping; to fall suddenly like that could cost him precious time and worsen his injuries, and he needed to save what little magic energy he had to ward off the pain that already existed.

  
One foot after another.

Limping and once in a while letting out a wince or small whimper, Zack continued on towards the eternal darkness of the city.

  
________________________________________

Aerith gathered up her basket and stood up. It was getting late, and decided that it would be best to go home. Staring at her flowers and becoming lost in memories wouldn't do her much good, especially when her mother was so prone to worrying.

  
With a sigh, she headed towards the door, pausing for a moment in the aisle.

  
It really did just seem like yesterday. He would come in through those very doors, they would embrace. He would tease her, she'd laugh it off and poke his shoulder. They would talk, and occasionally dance to unheard music under the hole in the roof.

  
The hole he caused.

She glanced upwards behind her. Every time she looked at that hole, she remembered the day that he came falling into her life. Things were so different back then. He was immature and she was naïve. But things were good, life was good. She loved him and he loved her.

  
She glanced down, and remembered a night he spent at her church. It had been the first time she ever saw him cry. He had looked so heartbroken, and so out of character … and she felt so powerless to help him. All she could do was hold him in silence as he let it out.

  
She had found herself in that position lately, and all she wished for was his arms to come around her like that. The world was a dark place, she mused, and walked down the aisle and out the door, into the dim streets of Sector 5.


	3. Wait For Me

_Deep breath. Can't over-exert yourself now, you're too close._

It loomed before him; oversized and somehow almost threatening, this door. No, more than a door. So much more. Indeed, this door could hold behind its hinges his hope. Or his destruction.

Four years. Had it really been that long? After all, it felt like just the other day…

Had she moved on without him now? His fingertips brushed against the worn and tarnished handle. What lay beyond his touch? Would happiness be within his grasp, or would it slip away?

Everything, all of it … it was just a blur. One moment, he's in his own world, presumably safe and blissfully ignorant in his carefully threaded web of life. He truly had it all; the good job, the beautiful girl, the boisterous friends, and at that time he was on top of everything; the world was within reach and it was then that he truly felt as if he could embrace his dreams and take them further.

It wasn't until much later that he realized just how much he had taken it all for granted, and that singular realization brought upon him more guilt and despair than any single human could ever hope to bear.

But, he silently mused, he couldn't be considered human anymore. Could he? Human enough, normal enough, for her? She always said that normal was best, after all, and surely normal was a far cry from whatever that bastard scientist had molded him into now.

Cool metal slowly warmed beneath his touch. Was he afraid of what could lie behind this door? Was he afraid of, after all this time had supposedly passed, what he would see? Of what his future held now that it was, for the first time, truly uncertain?

His hand shook. He took it all for granted. He took her for granted. The last time they had spoken … he was so sure that he'd see her again that he didn't even realize until now how upset she had sounded. So disappointed that after finally reaching him … he couldn't spare five minutes to speak to her. And, though these last four years passed in the blink of an eye for him, how lonely and pitiful must they have dragged on for her?

He had hung that call up after a rushed goodbye and a broken promise. He had spent four years without her, and she'd spent them writing letters to him. Letters that disappeared with the wind, save for one.

Deep breath.

_Embrace your dreams._

He couldn't let it become another broken promise.

He stood up straight, ignoring the fading but still persistent burn of his wounds, and pulled the heavy door to the slum church open, the scent of fresh flowers floating out to overpower the musty scent of the street, enveloping his senses and sending memories of days long past flooding into his mind once more.

"Aer …." The name trailed off his tongue as his eyes adjusted to the mild darkness inside the church, illuminated by the dying rays of sunlight that drifted down from the broken ceiling.

_She's not here…_

* * *

It was never day or night here. Just shades of in-between; murky yellow streetlamps never changed and if it were not for clocks, you'd never know what time it was below the plate.

Her church was the exception, of course, but Aerith was already home. The flowers she'd transplanted here were taking quite nicely, she noticed, watching over them dreamily from her bedroom window. Her adoptive mother's house was arguably the most beautiful in the entire sector. In fact, she thought, in all of Midgar, you'd never find a more homely home. There was an aura here; perhaps from these flowers, or perhaps from the broken pipe behind her mother's house that emptied into a retention pond, giving the illusion of a beautiful waterfall. Perhaps it was the rustic wooden fence she'd set along the uneven ground in their yard, that ran the perimeter of her mother's property and protected her flowers from, well…nothing. It did no good as a protective barrier against anything, but it was beautiful, and therefore it was precious to her.

She hadn't been hungry, but she shared a small meal with her mother. If any reason, it was to simply keep her poor mother from worrying. Worry was all she seemed to do lately, with Shinra's renewed and more desperate interest in Aerith making her daily trips to her church and topside much more dangerous. But what choice did she have? Her flower selling brought in a meager wage, but it was all they had. With Aerith being so uncooperative with Shinra, they had taken the opportunity to sever her deceased stepfather's pension pay from his days in the army, and Aerith had found out about it. Of course, she'd never let on to her mother that she knew, but she did. She had found out, late one night, from the hallway outside her mother's kitchen. Her mother was hunched over, sobbing at the table with a pile of post-due bills and a humble amount of gil beside them. Later that night, Aerith had peeked around and found a receipt from a slum pawn shop, which she later discovered had bought her mother's engagement ring a week before.

It was the next day that she had first traveled topside, to the upper plate, facing her fears for her mother's sake. He had promised to do this with her, but he was … no longer with her, and therefore she must grow up. That was her mantra and now here she was, four years later, a grown and mature woman with a heavy burden to bear.

A broken woman with a bandaged heart.

Bandaged… because a heart can only remain broken for so long before time begins to heal it – or, at the very least, make it forget. That was what she liked to believe, anyway.

Her hand unconsciously moved to the back of her braid, to the worn pink ribbon that was tied so tightly, so delicately. The Planet had been whispering to her lately. It always was, but recently it seemed more concerned and more foreshadowed, as if she were on the brink of destiny or some turn of events that could change her life.

Then again, she could be over thinking things again. With a sigh, Aerith moved from her window to lie on her bed. It wasn't late, but her heart was heavy. She felt as if she hadn't accomplished anything today, and resolved to rest early tonight so that she'd have extra time tomorrow to make up for it.

As the minutes passed, Aerith allowed herself to be carried away into another dreamless sleep.


	4. I've Just Seen a Face

"… _well, I suppose. I mean, where else would you get such a big, strong SOLDIER boy to help you put it together?"_

" _Somehow, I knew you'd say that." She was smiling. "Promise?"_

_He grinned, closing the distance between them. "I promise. On one condition…" his fingers wrapped gently around the ribbon in her hair, the other hand at her waist._

" _Hm… what would that be?"_

_Zack smiled and rested his head on top of hers, "I'll help you build the wagon, but you have to wear pink when I come home after this next assignment."_

_He heard Aerith laugh softly, before she leaned into his chest. "Okay, it's a deal."_

* * *

An empty and dilapidated church was probably the last place most sane people would choose to spend the night, but Zack was exhausted, wounded, and didn't have much choice. He had to be grateful that this was, at the very least, Aerith's church, and with that he felt a bit easier.

His footsteps, uneven and heavy with his limp, echoed off the barren walls as he made his way to the bed of flowers. He stopped before them, settling down on a pew in the front and feeling much like he hadn't rested in years.

After a further second of thought, he figured that wasn't a far cry from the truth.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the single materia he had; the only remnant of his inventory and supplies prior to his 'death.' He thanked his lucky stars that it had been a Cure materia to slip past the commanding officer's greedy hands, and he had made much use of it before arriving here.

Of course, he would need more care than a simple Cure spell to bring him back to normal, but for a quick fix it would do. He let the spell, cool and refreshing, wash over his body before slipping it back into his pocket, lying down on the hard wooden pew.

His mind was racing with a million scenarios, a thousand questions and hundreds of worries. Was Cloud okay? Where was Aerith? Would she be here? What about Tseng and Cissnei; could he chance it to try and contact either of them or would their loyalty to Shinra do him in? Where could he go from here?

He shook his head, trying to avert his thoughts to more peaceful ones. For now, he needed to sleep. He felt safe here. Though the slums were a harsh place, he knew in his heart that he would be all right if he rested here. It felt as if an unknown whisper in his mind was reassuring him and helping him drift into a gentle, feathery sleep.

And sleep he did, his mind giving in to the demands of his weary and exhausted body.

* * *

Though the sun never truly rose in Midgar, Aerith still knew when morning came.

The ground outside her mother's house was damp, and her flowers were moist with dew; leftovers from the rainstorm the previous day, she guessed.

It was a short walk to her church, and it was early enough to where she doubted she'd run into much trouble—Turks or otherwise—yet, she still remained prepared. With her then-empty basket tucked in the crook of her elbow and her Guard Stick gripped in the opposite hand, she headed towards her church.

Several worries ran through her mind. Would there be another kidnapping attempt at her today? Would she make enough gil by evening to pay their bills? The worries were endless and weighed a burden on Aerith's shoulders that were already sullen with despair and depression.

Despite all this, she did her best to put on her happy face. Every morning, she followed her usual routine; she'd get dressed, usually with a sundress of some sort; lately she'd been wearing the pink cotton dress her mother had bought her for her twenty-second birthday just a few months earlier, complemented with a red denim bolero jacket and light, golden bangles. She had been shocked that day, wondering for weeks just how her mother had managed to afford such an elaborate outfit, and later, lamented that the only shoes she had anymore were a pair of cracked red high-heels and some worn brown boots.

She had looked quite silly wearing those boots with such a lovely and conservative dress, but Aerith also did a lot of walking throughout the day, and therefore the boots served her purpose—though, she mused one day, when times were easier she wouldn't mind shopping for shoes.

The air had a slight chill to it—despite it being late spring, it had been raining often and the temperature lingered close to freezing most nights. The Planet was tired; it was being drained, and the climate was being affected now. Winters were longer and harsher, and the summers were dangerously hot. Storms became more violent and many thought this was a sign of things to come. Aerith was one of that many.

Rain was no complaint, she thought to herself as she approached the wooden doors to her church. Although the rain that fell brought pollution from above washing down, it still gave her a cleansing, refreshed feeling. For that she was grateful.

She reached for the handle to the door when a voice interrupted her.

"Hello, Aerith."

She snapped around into an immediate defensive stance, holding her staff out, before her eyes widened in recognition and she lowered her weapon.

"Well. You're up early, Tseng."

"I should say the same about you." He paused. "Before you ask, no, I'm not here for business."

Aerith frowned, "I'm not sure what to think about that." She sighed, shifting the weight of her basket in her arm, "Do… do you know if… I mean, my last couple of letters. Did they make it?"

The Turk cleared his throat. He wanted to tell her, he knew the two of them had been so close, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Not yet.

_Better get off the subject._

"I don't know. I'm sorry…" He could _feel_ the disappointment radiating from her. It killed him inside. He tried to lighten the conversation. "Headed up to work today?"

"Yeah." She shifted her stance to lean on one leg, "Things aren't good lately."

"…" He was overpaid, and he knew it. He started to reach into his pocket when she hollered at him.

"No! No… please. I can't accept charity. You know me, you know me almost as well as he did. I…I have to do this on my own." She was fighting back tears. Why was this so hard? He wasn't the first one to offer pity, and he was a better friend than the entitled rich on the upper plate.

No, it still wasn't right. It went against her character; stubborn as that character may be. "I'm sorry. Please…I have to work on my own. I earn my keep; I don't want to live off of other peoples' good will."

Tseng's heart sunk. She was such a good soul, and he (secretly, of course) had always been so jealous of Zack to have had her. To have these kind of feelings for his dead friend's lover was not right and he knew it, and therefore he suppressed them with a sigh.

"Aerith, you know you can always ask me for help. I don't want to see you or Elmyra wind up on the streets."

"You _have_ been helping me. Just make sure your men don't catch me."

There was a lump in his throat now. He should break the bad news. "It's going to get harder. Hojo is impatient and Heidegger might get fed up of his complaining and send infantry out to get you next time. Even SOLDIERs. If it comes to that, I'm powerless…" God, he hated to admit that.

Aerith shivered. It felt like the world was closing in on her. "I… I have been practicing my fighting. Maybe I'll be ok…"

"…knowing you, you'll always find a way to wriggle your way out of these messes." He was smiling, just a little bit. "Please take care of yourself, Aerith. I'll do what I can on the Shinra side, but even I can only do so much."

She nodded, an uneasy feeling rising up her spine now. "I'll try. Thank you, Tseng. You should go before we're spotted…"

He nodded, and wordlessly he walked away, leaving Aerith to her thoughts on the stoop of the church.

* * *

Everything around him was doused in a haze. Memories he couldn't quite remember laced with feelings he couldn't quite grasp. He could see now; that was an improvement.

He was sitting on the steps of a train station. Not sure where… or how. How did he get to the train? Where was he?

Who was he?

His mind was swimming, voices that were once screaming had faded to whispers and left him lost. He was aware of a large weapon beside him. Where did that come from?

_I am … SOLDIER, first class._

_Live for the both of us._

He didn't feel himself, but he didn't know who himself really was. Where did these memories come from? Whose voice was in his mind now that the mako had faded?

_You're my legacy…_

Memories of a buxom young girl atop a water tower were transparent; beside her stood a brunette with a pink bow.

Images of a shy boy with a modest military uniform were shadowed by a large, muscular frame in a decorated SOLDIER uniform, wielding a large sword.

_To be a…_

_...y_ _ou have to…_

He had the sword beside him. Was that his identity?

" _I want to become just like Sephiroth!"_

" _I'm going to join SOLDIER. I want to be strong."_

He was a SOLDIER….

_Honor._

…First Class.

A voice cut through the fog. "Hey, you ok…?"

"Whoa. Poor kid…"

"…you all right?"

He looked up. The last of the haze had cleared from his vision. The voice materialized into a face before him and a name formed on his lips. "…ugh…tii… Tifa?"

* * *

Voices again.

Wait, those weren't the gentle whispers in the back of his mind. No. Different. Familiar.

_Panic._

Zack sat up abruptly, straining to hear the voices coming from outside the church. One female, one male; both horribly familiar but still sending him into a fit of panic and his body desperately urging him to hide. Still limping, he headed to the back of the church, his eyesight guiding him to an open door.

Figuring he had nothing to lose, he slipped inside the room and was greeted by a giant mess. There were collapsed staircases and a few stray Hedgehog Pies dodging between them and a broken column, all ignoring him (quite thankfully on his part). Despite the dull ache in his bones and his uneven step, he managed to make his way across and up into the rafters of the church just before the door opened.

His heart was racing as he settled onto an old beam above the flowerbed, giving him a perfect view of just who was walking through that door. As the figure moved from the shadows in the back of the church closer to the light, he made out a pink and red clad young woman, carrying a basket.

His heart skipped and Zack nearly fell from his seat. He wanted to yell, to scream, but thought against it; for now, he would observe and wait for the right moment. He didn't want to scare her, and in his haste, he had gotten himself into a delicate position from which it would take him time to climb down from.

The throb in his leg suggested to him that perhaps scaling the broken ruins of a church's back room is not the best of things to do with his injuries, but his mind wouldn't listen; it was solemnly affixed to the woman who was now kneeling beneath him in the flowerbed.


	5. Timber

For all the misfortune and chaos she encountered on a daily basis, Aerith was still grateful for her sanctuary.

On dreary, lonesome days, she had mused about what this church had once stood for long ago; before the times of Mako and Shinra, before Midgar overshadowed this very spot, and when humans still revered the Planet, their Creator, the Gods and Goddesses and what-have-you. She could close her eyes and almost see them, dancing and singing in their praise, rejoicing in the simple joy of life. She imagined this church with its steeple intact, surrounded by green grass and flowers; people crowding here on Sunday mornings to pray and sing, filing up the stone staircase through the heavy wooden doorframe and arranging themselves amongst the pews.

Aerith imagined a long, long time ago, when the church was whole. Today, it stood as a testament to days long past, although the sanctity and peace within these walls certainly remained unchanged. Long ago, this building was a gathering place for prayer and peace, and perhaps that was why today, out of the entirety of the slums, the flowers had been able to bloom here first.

And, secretly, perhaps because of those days long ago, Aerith was able to communicate with her Planet here today without much effort; as if the Planet's voice was able to flow freely through the stained glass and deteriorating wooden frame of this old church.

Seemingly in her own world, she settled down into her flowerbed as usual, setting her empty basket and her weapon on either side of her, taking a deep breath and placing her hands palms-down onto this rare patch of soil.

It always felt like a cool breeze, gentle whispers flowing through her mind and heart all at once; the voices were calmer today, almost a bit teasing, leaving Aerith feeling almost uneasy at the sudden change of attitude. 'Is something wrong? Is something about to happen?'

Whispers, only whispers… 'no' and 'yes' responding simultaneously, leaving the young woman perplexed and almost annoyed, although she certainly caught herself lest she show any disrespect; such was not the ways of the Cetra.

'How silly… to act this way in such serious times?'

Feelings of a warm embrace. The scent of a newly-bloomed lily. 

'…hmph.' Her eyes slid open slowly, her hands gently grasping the moist dirt beneath her. Of course she was used to the bewildering way in which the Planet spoke to her, but something certainly seemed…off, today.

_Creeeeak._

She froze. What was that? Aerith's hand found her way to her staff and she slowly stood, turning to face the door.

_Crrreeeak…_

Shivers ran up her spine and Tseng's warning from earlier came to memory. Not so soon? No… couldn't be. The door didn't move and the flower girl could almost swear that noise sounded like…

Suddenly, she heard an audible curse as the sound returned, louder, and broken wood and dust showered over her. Screaming, she clutched her staff and bowed her head, shielding her eyes with the back of one hand, the other clenching around her weapon, hearing a loud and lumpy _thud!_ right where she had been standing just seconds before.

What had just _happened?_ She peeked over her hand, waiting for the dust to clear, and once her eyes focused on what lay before her, Aerith's staff fell from her hand and fell to the ground, bouncing awkwardly and rolling to rest next to an overturned pew, as she simply stood frozen in place; it was almost as if she'd seen a ghost.

* * *

"We got nothin' boss."

Tseng stood at the train station, fingers anxiously rubbing his temples. "You looked everywhere?"

"Listen, man, this kind of thing isn't unheard of, yo. Monsters around, always lookin' to scavenge…"

He hated to think of his former friend becoming more than a monster's prey. But Reno did have a point. And he had been looking to retrieve his body for his sake more than anyone else's. His, and Aerith's. Without the body, how could any of them come to closure?

"…come back to headquarters. We have a new assignment." Tseng had no emotion to his voice; he was monotonous. He had failed his friend. And, despite his best efforts, he feared he would not be able to honor Zack's wish to keep Aerith safe. He was failing.

"…we're headed back now. See you, yo." The communication ceased. How Tseng wished he could simply brush off his feelings like Reno. Then again, perhaps that was just Reno's way of coping. He didn't care to ponder such things now.

He folded his PHS and slipped it into his pocket just as the train pulled up.

* * *

_Not again._

Perhaps, in hindsight, climbing up into the rafters of an old, broken church hadn't been such a smart choice. He knew he'd fallen. How _familiar._ And how ironic and just _fitting_ it was that fate chose to throw this at him.

He felt a warm palm on his forehead and oh god how he wanted to just open his eyes and jump up, but he settled on simply cracking his eyes open, burred and spinning shapes fluttering into view, overwhelming him with vertigo and leaving him quite disoriented.

"...ack? …it…you…"

He came to realize that his ears were still ringing. Braving the waves of nausea that threatened to overtake him, Zack opened his eyes and willed them to focus, meeting a pair of green eyes, such familiar green eyes.

…such fearful, surprised and _sad_ green eyes. Not at all like he remembered.

A painful lump rising in his throat, the ache in his heart trumping all other wounds in his body, he managed to choke out her name. "Aer…" _Well, at least half of it._

She closed her eyes and…was she glowing? Seconds later, he felt a cool, refreshing tingle and saw a stream of dancing green light wave across his battered body, mending minor cuts and fractures and removing that awful ringing in his ears. The room stopped spinning.

She was there. And by god, she was beautiful.

"…Aer. Aerith. You…" He was utterly _speechless._ He propped up on his elbows, taking a deep breath. "Sorry. About the flowers …again.."

"…you picked a dumb way to come back to me, Mister Fair."

He smirked up at her. The sadness in her eyes was relenting to mild amusement, and a small weight in his heart was lifted. "I, uh. I guess I have a lot of explaining to do, don't I?"

"I would say so."

* * *

_What wretched things. Look at how they scurry about like insects, consuming and destroying…_

'In my head… who… are you?'

_My son, you are my son… you are mine. Together we will seek revenge. You are strong…_

'…mother?'

_Yes… yes, of course. Oh my dear, don't be afraid. Mother is here. Mother will never leave you behind. Rest now, my son… rest…_

'…rest.'

His body stirred. Where was he? There was something uncomfortable below him. A bed? No. He opened his eyes.

"Hmm." He pushed himself into a sitting position. He was in an unfamiliar place, lying on a hastily thrown together bed of blankets and lumpy pillows on a cold floor. He heard footsteps and a small gasp.

"Oh! You're awake, thank goodness. How are you feeling?"

"A little sore." He stretched his arms out, looking at the young woman before him. "Have we met?"

"Not formally, no. I'm Jessie. Tifa's friend. She brought you here last night, you seemed in pretty bad shape. I came down here to check up on you just now while she ran out for some potions."

"Tifa… oh!" The man shook his head. "Can you take me to her?"

"Certainly. Are you all right to stand now?" She extended a hand out to him.

"I should be." He grasped Jessie's outstretched hand and pushed himself up off the floor, stretching tight and sore muscles once more. "Thanks."

Jessie nodded. "No problem at all. Any friend of Tifa is a friend of mine. She didn't tell me your name though, she seemed so flustered this morning…"

"My name is Cloud. Cloud Strife."

* * *

He didn't know how she did it, but Aerith had some strong kind of healing magic. It was unlike anything he had ever seen. And to say Zack was grateful for it would be an understatement.

"Well, you'll still need to rest, but I'd say you're mostly healed now…" Aerith was sitting beside him now, and was still trying to make sense of the events that had just unfolded. "How… what happened to you? I'd never seen so many wounds before…"

"Shinra happened to me." Noting the confused expression on his love's face, he continued. "There's a reason I was gone for so long. I had no idea it had been this long, but terrible and unspeakable things happened."

"I had thought… well, it wouldn't have surprised me if you'd just found another girl to run off with." She didn't see the hurt look on his face.

"You really thought that…?"

"… …no. Not really. I think I wanted to believe that, but really, I was just ignoring my gut feeling. I felt like something bad had happened to you, but I didn't want to believe it."

"I was coming back to see you."

Her fingers were brushing over the holes in his uniform. "Please. Tell me what really happened."

"Aerith…"

"Please, Zack…" She grasped his left hand in-between both of hers, eyes pleading and on the verge of tears. "I waited so long for you, please…"

He looked solemnly at her, before his eyes widened in a sudden realization. She looked at him curiously.

"You're wearing pink."

"Don't change the subject…oh!" She was suddenly bound in his embrace, taken completely by surprise as he held her, his head beside hers. She shakily returned his embrace, eyes wide as she felt something wet on her shoulder. _Tears?_

"Aerith. I promise I'll explain it to you, but please, not now. Right now, I … I need to forget it for now. Too horrible, too painful… too much to handle right now. I promise I'll tell you soon, but please…"

Aerith was unsure and completely overwhelmed at this point. Whatever had happened, it must have been truly horrific, and certainly she could wait if it meant helping him heal. She decided it best to change the subject now, the unfamiliar feeling of wet tears on her shoulder was something she had not felt from Zack in several years. "My mom… she bought this dress for me for my birthday this year. It… well, it's become one of my favorites. And it matches the ribbon you gave me."

"The ribbon…" Zack looked up from her shoulder, his face glistening and his eyes red, but shining with a bit of happiness now. "You kept it."

"Of course. I wear it always." She smiled at him.

"Your birthday.. I'm so sorry I had missed it. I missed four of them." He grinned a little at her, "I suppose then that I have a lot to make up for!"

"No." She was blushing. How long had it been since she blushed? "It's ok. You being back here… it's enough for me."

"You're twenty-two now. That makes me…" He paused with grim realization.

_Twenty-three God. They took years of my life away. Some of the best. What else have I missed out on?_

Her voice brought him back from his thoughts. "You look so different now, Zack. So grown up. I had always expected that immature and assured SOLDIER boy to walk through those doors, but instead, you've returned to me a grown and matured man." She looked down, gazing at her worn out boots and his muddy ones.

He cupped her cheek in his gloved hand, "You've grown up too, you know. I hardly recognized you at first… you looked so hardened, so sad. What happened while I was gone?"

She closed her eyes; she had really missed his touch. "Nothing in particular. It's just funny how the world can change a person…"

 _How true._ "I really missed you, Aerith." He pulled her into another hug, squeezing her and wishing he'd never have to let go again.

"I did too." Her face twisted up, "I, uh, I think we should get you a shower."

He reluctantly pulled away, a little surprised, but then amused, a big grin spreading across his face. He was home again.


	6. For You Blue

It had been just another morning at first. She woke up, sighed inwardly when noting the absence of her daughter _again_ , and prepared herself for the day. As much as Elmyra hated to admit it, she was getting older, and with becoming older in such a harsh environment came a toll on one's body and stamina. Simply put, she just wasn't as young as she used to be.

But, still, she made herself useful. Though she couldn't move as well as she could five years ago, she could still maneuver around her home with a basket of laundry balanced on her hip, or cook up delicious meals for the two women to share. In fact, on normal mornings, they began their day with a sweet and simple breakfast and pleasant chatter, before Aerith would go to her church, and Elmyra would take care of whatever she could manage around the house.

However, today was not a normal day, she thought as she glanced across the table at the young man shoveling pancakes into his face as if there were no tomorrow.

Elmyra had to admit that she hadn't been too fond of Zack when he had first begun hanging around her daughter so long ago. It wasn't his fault, either—she had mostly been looking out for Aerith, after all. Her daughter was all she had left. And perhaps the fact that he was in SOLDIER made her cautious, as it brought back bittersweet memories of her own husband and the war that took him away from her. She remembered the horrible pain and heartbreak she suffered, and wanted nothing more than to protect her beloved daughter from that pain.

But, none of that had been Zack's fault, of course, although Elmyra had almost justified her wariness towards him after he had, seemingly, disappeared. She tried so hard to justify it when Aerith would cry herself to sleep at night, or mail out her fiftieth letter to him. And the sixtieth. And the seventieth, eightieth… until she had stopped writing them altogether.

But surprised couldn't begin to describe how the old woman felt as this young man came through her door this morning, limping and being halfway-supported on Aerith's shoulder, dried blood and bullet holes marring his clothes.

It was then that Elmyra felt no longer justified, but guilty. She decided to put her prejudice to rest permanently then, as she realized that this young man was human, and her daughter – as unique as she may be – was human as well. She loved him, and therefore, as a mother, she would accept this and love him too.

That included helping this boy heal.

The rest of the morning was a hectic blur and she didn't say much, except short orders to the young couple; Zack, go in the back room and change out of that dirty outfit. Aerith, get him a change of clothes. Zack, sit down and let me make you breakfast (this particular order had been met with a beaming smile and eager eyes), Aerith, take these clothes into the back and wash them in the bin.

_I'm sorry I misjudged you, young man._

Another realization hit the woman, and she glanced out the back window from her vantage point in the kitchen, to her daughter standing solemnly in the garden.

* * *

Aerith sighed, plucking Zack's old clothes out of the wash tub and slinging them over her arm. She had managed to wash the dirt and old blood out, but sewing up those holes was another story. She'd never been good at sewing, but maybe she could convince mom to help her with it. She pinned the tattered uniform onto the clothesline, taking a moment to look over her flower garden.

She wasn't sure how to feel. She was happy and sad, relieved and upset, all at once. Zack was home. This was something she had endlessly wished for and thought about for years. She had played out their reunion in her mind every night, imagining it and dreaming it endlessly. But she hadn't expected him to come home like this.

She was so happy to have him back, but so worried. She wanted to know what had happened to him; the upbeat and hyper boy she had watched leave that day had come back full of pain and nightmares, and she wanted to heal him. Aerith ran her fingers over his old shirt, feeling the torn and tattered edges and tears, wondering what it must have felt like to be him right now, and trying fruitlessly to think of a way to make that horrible pain go away.

"Aerith, dear…"

She turned around to meet her mother's eyes. "Oh, mom. I'm sorry, I was about to come in…"

Elmyra walked to stand beside her, placing her hand on her daughter's back, "I just want you to know that he's welcome here."

Aerith was shocked, "Mom, but I thought you—"

"Aerith, you've grown up so much. You're responsible, and I know how much it would mean to you. The poor boy looks like a mess, and it would help to have another set of hands around the house." Elmyra shrugged, "Besides, I know you. If I didn't allow it, you'd sneak out every night just like you did when you were younger."

"Mom…"

"Go inside, Aerith. You're a better healer than I am." The older woman smiled, "But I'm the better seamstress."

"Thanks, Mom." Aerith smiled, which was something her mother hadn't seen in a long time. She hugged her daughter close. After Aerith had gone inside, Elmyra turned to look across to their garden; the garden that her daughter had struggled to bring up so long ago. Perhaps things would begin to look up for them now.

* * *

He stared into the glass before him, watching the translucent brown liquid flow gracefully in.

"It's so early, though…"

He shrugged and brought the glass to his lips, downing nearly half the drink at once. The young woman on the other side of him placed one hand at her hip, looking at the man with worry in her eyes.

"I needed this before I left."

"Oh." The woman shifted her stance. "You know, Cloud, you could always stay here, even just for a little while…"

Cloud set the glass on the bar, his eyes never leaving his drink. "Tifa…"

"I know Barrett and the others'll need some muscle on their next assignment. Even if you decide to leave… I mean, if you leave or stay, it doesn't matter, but in any case, you could use some money in your pocket, right?" She was really trying to convince him. How could she let this man come back into her life so unexpectedly and suddenly, just to turn around and leave again?

He silently finished his drink.

"…please, Cloud?" Tifa was persistent. She couldn't bear to lose him again.

"…I'll think about it." Cloud set his empty glass at the bar, his gaze finally lifting to meet hers.

It sent shivers down Tifa's spine to look into those cold eyes.

* * *

Tseng unlocked the door to his office, his shoulders sagging and his eyelids heavy. He hadn't slept in days and while seeing Aerith this morning had energized him briefly, he still felt himself drained the moment he entered the Shinra building once more. He walked over to his desk, the door creaking softly as it swung back closed.

What was next? He sank down into the worn out leather chair, raising one hand to his forehead.

_God, my head is pounding._

There was so much to figure out. He had to find a way to keep Aerith safe. He'd managed so far for all these years, he couldn't let her down now. He sighed and let his eyelids fall closed as he brainstormed.

What could he do? This was so dangerous, and many would call him stupid. Why not turn the girl in? After all, it would probably land him a promotion. It would solve this problem once and for all.

No. He couldn't do that. He promised Zack he'd watch over her.

And someone as pure and innocent as that girl from the slums… she had no business setting foot in this awful place. Let alone being brought here as some kind of sick plaything for a deranged scientist.

Hojo. Hojo, the head of Shinra's science department. Hojo, the main force behind the countless projects involving Jenova, Mako and god knows what other kind of anomalies. Hojo, the unstable man who loved his 'experiments' enough to go to any length just to get his hands on any 'specimen' that came to his attention, no matter how elusive.

Hojo. If not for him, this world would have been better off.

There was a knock at the door that startled the Turk out of his thoughts. He regained his posture, "Come in."

The door creaked open and a young woman entered. Probably a secretary; Tseng didn't care to keep track of Shinra's hiring habits. "A letter from the science department, sir." She shyly handed him the manilla envelope from the pile balanced in the crook of her arm.

 _Shit._ He grimaced inwardly, looking at the seemingly plain envelope in his hands. "Thank you."

* * *

Never in his life had he ever been so happy to see _pancakes._

 _Real food._ When was the last time he'd even eaten a meal? He didn't care anymore. He had _pancakes._ And not just any pancakes—pancakes cooked by his girlfriend's mother.

Despite the throbbing in his leg, Zack felt amazing. He had a shower. A shower, with hot water and soap and everything. It was one of those luxuries that you never miss until you haven't had one in a few days—or, in his case, a few _years._ No wonder Aerith had been a little put off by him earlier; it had taken nearly an hour and a whole bar of soap before the water ran clear and he felt clean.

True to most young couples, Aerith had "stolen" some old clothes (and by stolen, meaning Zack had "accidentally" left for her). Back then, she had loved being wrapped in the smell of him, and he made it a habit to leave her a shirt or an old pair of shorts before heading out on any lengthy mission.

Today, he was just grateful that he didn't have to wait around naked for his proper clothing to be wearable again, even if he did smell like flowers now instead of faint cologne and musk.

So there he sat, in an old t-shirt and shorts, eating the last of a large helping of pancakes and wearing a goofy grin. He had momentarily forgotten everything else but the sweetness of pancakes and syrup. These were the most damn delicious things he'd ever tasted. Ever. _Ever ever._ Of course, there was something much better than those pancakes, and she had just walked through the door. He beamed at the sight of her.

Aerith looked over and smiled; a genuine, happy smile, and seemed to be holding back laughter. "Wow."

"Wow? Wow what…?"

"So were they good?"

"Of course!" Zack put his hands at his hips, grinning. "Your mom's the best. I remember when she wouldn't even say 'hi' to me, and now she's cooking me breakfast! Things really have changed, huh?"

"She also offered to sew up your clothes. I'm surprised too, honestly. I'd expected her to be mad or something… but today's just been full of surprises…" She sat at the table next to him. "Maybe she just missed you."

"Yeah right. Though I gotta say, I missed her."

"You missed my mom?" Aerith gave him a strange look.

"Of course. Missed the way she'd glare at me from the doorway when I'd come by during the day, or when she'd catch me trying to climb up to your window at night…"

"You're so strange."

"…missed the way she'd catch us kissing in your garden, and when she'd scold me for not having you back by ten…"

"Oh quit it! I can't believe I missed having you here." She was laughing. It was music to his ears.

"You know something else though?"

"What's that?"

"I really, really missed you."

She smiled. "I know."

Zack rubbed the back of his head, "…what, that's it? Where's the dramatic monologue and the epic kissing scene?"

"You're acting like your old self again…"

"It's hard not to when I'm around you." He leaned over and gently nuzzled the side of her head, "I missed the smell of flowers and the sound of your voice…"

"…you don't know how much I missed you, too."

He grinned, kissing her hair gently before pulling back, "Heh."

"What's funny this time?"

"You're cute when you blush."

"Oh, you!" She gave him a light, playful slap on the shoulder. He winced. "Ah! …sorry, I forgot for a second there."

"It's okay. Nothing a little kiss couldn't fix, anyway."

"You're really trying your luck, aren't you?" She stood up, gathering Zack's empty plate up and heading into the kitchen.

She had, indeed, missed him.

* * *

"I don't like 'im, Teef." Barrett crossed his arms defiantly.

"Oh please, Barrett, at least give him a chance. You know you guys need help in the reactor, and he _was_ with SOLDIER, so he should know something about the reactors at least…"

He sighed, "I dunno if I can trust him. He just popped out of nowhere and you expect me to let 'em tag along? What if he's a spy?"

"He's not a spy. Barrett, please. You have my word." The door opened just then.

"Well, speak 'o the devil." He stared at Cloud. "So, you gonna be joining AVALANCHE or what?"

Cloud scoffed. "I'm not _joining_ anything. I'm in this for the pay. I'll do whatever you need me to, but don't expect me to join your… _cause,_ or whatever the hell you want to call it."

"You cocky little son of a—" Tifa put her hand on Barrett's arm, silencing him with a wordless shake of the head. He cleared his throat. "Fine. But you best watch yourself, kid. Don't think I can't bust your spiky ass up!"

"Whatever." Cloud sat down at the bar again, his back facing the other two. "What is this mission, anyway?"

Barrett nodded to Tifa, who swiftly moved to the door, peeking out the window before sliding the lock into place and giving him a thumbs up. He lowered his voice.

"We're gonna bomb the reactor in Sector One."


	7. Calm Before the Storm

' _Tch!' Zack stood, frustrated, looking to his mentor. 'Come on, Angeal! One more go!' He waved his broken sword around like a maniac._

_Angeal chuckled, walking past the unruly boy, but stopping to stand in the glow of the doorway. 'Embrace your dreams, Zack.'_

'… _eh?' The younger SOLDIER cocked his head, 'What?'_

' _If you want to be a hero, you'll need to have dreams. And honor.'_

' _Uh…'_

_Angeal walked through to the hallway and the door slid shut behind him, leaving Zack to his thoughts. 'Stop talking in riddles like that!'_

' _Dreams…huh.'_

* * *

Just as nurturing and cultivating the earth had come so easily to her daughter, so had stitching and needlework come to Elmyra. She carefully tied off the final stitch in the dark denim of Zack's military pants, taking a moment to look over the fabric for any missed tears. She rotated the pants in her hands, finally holding them by the cuffs and letting out a satisfactory sigh.

_Almost like new. Almost. It'll do quite well, I believe._

She shook out the clothing one final time to coax off the tiny remnants of thread that had clung to the fabric, and was quite surprised to see two small, crumpled pieces of paper float out of the pockets. _Oh?_ She bent over to scoop them up, standing back up (with a small groan and pat to her aging back) and carefully peeling one of the small papers open. The ink was a bit runny, but mostly legible, and suddenly the old woman thought she had stumbled into a private memento not meant for her eyes.

Of course, like any mother, she had her curiosity, and after a quick glance around the garden she peeked through the short note, driven by her own nosy desire; she felt almost as if she'd stumbled across a secret diary.

_Zack,_

_I said I had twenty-three little wishes. But, after a little thought… I've combined them all into one big wish. All I wish for is to spend more time with you._

_I know you're busy, and I'm sorry if it's a lot to ask, but that's my only wish, and I think that'd be all I'd need to be happy._

_Take care,_

_Aerith_

Elmyra blushed, feeling as if she'd intruded on a private moment, a few thoughts running through her mind. She debated for a moment whether to open the second note or not.

After a minute, she slid both of the papers back into the pocket, feeling that she'd pried around enough. She hung the almost-dry clothing back onto the line and headed back into the house to alert the kids about Zack's opportunity to change back into decent clothing.

* * *

"Hmmm…"

"Hm?" Aerith looked over to Zack, who was sitting in an old armchair, peering through the front window.

"Just thinking." He looked over to the flower girl. "Still trying to absorb everything, y'know?"

"Yeah…" She came to stand beside him, "Are you feeling better now?"

"Much." He grinned, "I don't know how you did it… I mean, I've seen some strong magic before, but nothing like yours. What's your secret?"

"Oh…" Aerith fidgeted a little bit. "It's no secret, I guess it's just luck."

"Luck, huh…"

They heard the back door close, and Aerith was glad for the distraction. "Oh, mom, do you need any help?"

Elmyra stepped through the kitchen to stand in the hallway, "Oh, I'm alright. I'm going to go upstairs and rest, but Zack, your clothes are ready."

He nodded, "Thank you. I don't know how I can repay you, for everything. I'll make it up to you somehow!"

She brushed him off with a wave of her hand, "Don't worry about it. Just behave, the both of you."

Aerith flustered, " _Mo-om!_ What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, she's just teasing you Aer!"

Aerith sulked, and Zack laughed. It brought a lightness to Elmyra's heart that she hadn't felt in a long time. "Be sure to lock up if you go out." She gripped the railing to the stairs and headed up.

"Well, I suppose I'll go get changed, then. I wouldn't mind a walk outside." Zack grinned and got up from the armchair, heading to the garden to retrieve his clothes.

Aerith let out a sigh. _I don't know how I can keep hiding this from him…_

A quiet whisper touched her heart.

_I don't… I don't want him to leave again._

A soothing touch on the edge of her skin.

_I hope so…_

A distant echo of a laugh warming her soul.

_Prepare…?_

**…**

_Oh, Planet!_ Aerith huffed.

"…Aer?"

She froze. "Uh…"

"Are you… okay? You looked a little strange." Zack walked over to her.

Aerith turned to face him, "Yes! I'm fine. You said you wanted to go for a walk, right?" She grasped his hand and, thankfully, he changed the subject.

"A walk with a lovely flower lady, how could I refuse?" He brought her hand up with a flourish and bowed down on one knee.

"Well, I can see you're fully healed after all."

"You doubted me?" He stood back up, still holding her hand. "And your mom is phenomenal. I think this old uniform is in better shape than before I left for that mission. I wonder how she does it?"

"Mission… yeah…" She looked to the side, visibly upset. Zack pulled her forward, startling her, but she didn't resist his pull, resting against his chest.

"Let's go for that walk, and then I'll start explaining. As much as I can handle, at least."

She pulled back, looking up at him. "Promise?"

He half-smiled, "Yeah."

With hands still-joined, the couple headed outside into the muggy city air.

* * *

"…sounds simple enough."

"Simple? Shit… you cocky little bastard… you think this shit is _simple?_ I'll be watchin' you! Just one fuck-up and your ass is mine, Stamp!"

Barret was visibly pissed off at this new recruit, and Biggs and Wedge hadn't seemed too keen with him either. Jessie just sighed, "Stop fighting, already. I'm almost done with the bomb's wiring, so I'll have all the equipment ready in time for us to catch the last train."

"And we're taking the _train?_ Brilliant. A group of deadly terrorists, using public transit. How _economical_."

Jessie grumbled under her breath. _This guy **is** kind of an asshole._

"Hey, everyone!" Tifa yelled from above, "The bar's empty for now, who wants lunch?"

Wedge jumped up at the voice, "LUNCH! Oooh, Tifa, you know I can't resist!" He was first to hop onto the makeshift elevator. Jessie sighed and Barret just cursed.

* * *

"This place hasn't changed much, has it?"

"I guess not, but I wouldn't have noticed anyway…" Aerith glanced over to Zack, who seemed just pleased enough to hold her hand and breathe. "Did you want to go anywhere in particular?"

"Hmm." He lifted a finger to his chin in thought, "How about that little playground? You know, where we had our first…" He kissed her hand for emphasis, "…date?"

Aerith blushed and smiled at the attention. She was beginning to get used to this again. "Okay. We're close by, anyway…"

They spent the few minutes just enjoying each other's company, walking. Zack watched his surroundings, pleasantly surprised to not see any monsters hiding around in the rubble.

_That reminds me, I should look into finding another weapon…_

_Oh, I hadn't even thought… Cloud! I wonder… well, one step at a time, I suppose. I wonder where that kid is right now…_

He was roused out of his thoughts by Aerith's voice, "Here we are…"

"It really _hasn't_ changed much. Where are all the kids?" He glanced around the eerily empty playground.

"Kids these days don't care much for playgrounds." She released his hand and walked over to the oversized slide, with a comical cat face. "To be honest, this is the first time I've been here in years. I wasn't even sure it'd still be here…"

"Really? But I thought this was one of your favorite places…?"

Aerith nodded, "It was. But when you dis—" she caught herself, "...left on your mission, I couldn't bear to come here alone."

"Aer…" He came beside her, arm instinctively wrapping around her waist and pulling her close. "I… I'm sorry. I—"

"You shouldn't apologize," she interrupted. "I know it wasn't your fault, but it… those were very rough years."

"Will you tell me about them?"

 _I want to…_ "I…"

"Hey, it's Mister!" A tall boy came bounding across the playlot, "Aerith! You didn't tell me he was back!"

"Well!" _Saved again. I can't hide forever…_ "How are you, Rix?"

The boy grinned, "Well, I should ask you the same question! Did I interrupt something?"

 _Thankfully, yes._ "Oh, just talking is all. Zack, you remember Rix, don't you?"

Zack furrowed his brow for a moment, then his eyes went wide, "You! You're the brat that stole my wallet back then, aren't you?"

"Zack!"

"Heh, it's okay, Miss Aerith." Rix smiled at Zack, "Yeah, that's me, but I don't do that kind of thing anymore. I got a real honest job now!"

"Ah, well I'm glad to hear that. How's your mom doing, anyway?"

Aerith cleared her throat and Rix looked at his feet, kicking at the sand absentmindedly, "She died last year, actually."

"Oh… oh! I didn't know, I'm sorry." Zack rubbed the back of his head. _Real nice, Fair._

Rix shrugged, "Don't worry about it. Anyway, I should be going. You better take good care of Aerith, you hear me?" He puffed out his chest in mock-intimidation, "I'm no little kid anymore, so I can bust you up real good if you hurt her!"

Aerith giggled, while Zack huffed. "Take care, Rix. I should be able to keep him in line myself."

Rix smiled and waved before sprinting off towards Sector Six. Zack cleared his throat, "He's grown up, hasn't he?"

"He's only thirteen now, but I think his mom's passing forced him to mature quickly."

"I can understand that…" Awkward silence loomed over their heads for a minute before Aerith spoke again.

"Well, you promised we would talk, right? We can head back to my house."

"Yeah," he pulled her hand into his again, "Well, lead the way."

_Quick note: I got the name "Rix" from On the Way to a Smile. Particularly in Case of Denzel. Rix is the name of a young man/boy who grew up in the slums, and works in Midgar post-Meteor when everybody is evacuating from the upper plate. (I didn't want to just make up a name for him.)_


	8. Violets in Dust

_This wasn't how it was supposed to be…_

Quiet loomed over the young couple much like a storm cloud, embracing them in discomfort and foreboding. What had happened?

Aerith had spent years dreaming of the day that he'd return, but couldn't bring herself to act on the emotions raging inside her heart. It was almost as if she was meeting him all over again, except those sky-blue eyes that had once been filled with joy were now laden with secrets and sorrow.

Yet still, she found herself reaching for his hand in a last-ditch effort to comfort herself as they sat together in her garden. Neither of them knew just how long they'd been sitting together in this awkward silence; soon enough, the streetlights were growing brighter and the hustle in the streets was dribbling to a weak trickle of the occasional slum drunk or some other shady type.

"So…" He was first to break the silence; his voice nearly making Aerith jump right out of her skin. Zack shifted a little closer, fingers entwining between hers, "I think I'm ready."

Her eyes widened a little, then softened, a little bit of weight easing off of her mind. "I'm ready to listen."

"It's… well, it's not pretty. But I've been thinking all day about how to tell you, and I think I finally know how." His eyes were so different now. "You deserve an explanation, and I need to get it off my chest." Those blue eyes, they truly did reflect the skies she had always envisioned: clouded, fearful, and scarred.

"You remember when you called me, when I was in Nibelhiem?"

"Of course."

"I… well, things sort of went downhill from there. I don't want to go into much about it, but Sephiroth… he lost it. And Cloud and I, we were the ones to take the brunt force of it all."

"Oh…my…"

"To be honest, Aer… I really don't remember much of what happened afterwards. It felt like I closed my eyes and woke up only a moment later. Except what felt like a moment to me… it was really four whole years."

"Woke up?"

He was cringing a little and his gaze left hers to settle on an overturned rock at the edge of her garden, "I woke up in a tube, like … like some sort of _monster._ Another one of Hojo's experiments." It was Aerith's turn to cringe. "I busted on out of that thing. Cloud, too. That's where this whole mess really started…"

His breath was a little shaky, and Aerith picked up on that, completely forgetting any sense of awkwardness she'd felt beforehand and wrapping an arm around his sagging shoulders.

He continued on, "It was a long, hard journey. Cloud was about as lively as a vegetable. I had to somehow keep him protected while cutting a path out. I don't know how long it took. And… a lot happened. But the worst part of it all…"

She held him a little tighter now, as he shook his head. She could have sworn that she saw a tear fall to the ground, but she remained quiet, listening for the rest of his story.

"We… got close to Midgar. About halfway through the badlands. I could see it. Then… that's when Shinra got to us." He took a deep, shaky breath. "I made sure Cloud was safe. Somehow, I felt that I was walking into a trap, and I had this horrible feeling, deep down…" A sob slipped out then. "There were hundreds of them, but I fought. There was blood, and it felt like forever before I finally…" He folded over across his knees, and she cradled him, "When it was over, all I saw was blood and rain. Cloud was okay, though. That was important. I made sure… he was okay. And all I could think about then…"

Aerith felt her eyes welling up as she held him in her lap, his face flushed and wet with tears. "My last thoughts were of you, and then everything went dark."

"Zack…"

"At first, I felt like I was being pulled, somewhere brighter. I didn't feel pain, I didn't see the blood anymore, but then, all of a sudden… it disappeared. I woke up in the same spot I fell in, except Cloud was gone, and everything _hurt._ " Zack took a deep, shaky breath, before offering a little half-hearted smile up at his lover, "Well, you know the rest. I made it here, after all…"

"I… I had no idea…"

"…it doesn't matter now. I'm here. I have a lot to make up for, you know. About five years, that's a lot of missed dates."

She felt her heart becoming lighter, now. That was the Zack she remembered. She saw his old self shining through just then, those eyes drying up and brightening with all the energy of a puppy.

"Well, Aerith…" He sat up, taking a moment to clear his eyes with his fingertips, "Was there anything you wanted to tell me?"

 _Yes._ "I…"

He looked inquisitively at her, waiting for an answer. "I'm… glad you're home, Zack." She leaned into his arms then, and he gladly returned the embrace, his face nestled in her hair. _I'll tell you my secrets later… right now, I … I just want to make up for lost time._

"I thought of you every day. Every day. Every night. I missed you and I was so afraid that I would come back here and you would have forgotten."

"I'd never forget! I waited… and I wrote you so many letters, but I know now that they never got to you…"

"One did."

"…huh?" Aerith pulled away from his chest, looking up.

Zack reached into his pocket and pulled out two pieces of paper, folded and worn, "Your 'eighty-ninth' letter was how I knew it'd been four years since I left. I also had your list of wishes." He smirked, "Or, wish."

Her eyes sparkled, "I must have sounded like a spoiled child back then. You did so much for me, and I always was asking for more. But that one wish… if that was all I had for the rest of my life, I would be happy."

"I think I can arrange for that."

* * *

"Ready to go, everyone?" Biggs stood next to Barret, who was glaring daggers into the back of a certain blonde across the room.

Jessie sat up from her seat at the bar, grabbing a worn old knapsack and cradling it like a precious crystal. She spoke barely above a whisper, "I have the bomb and everyone's ID cards."

Wedge stretched from his seat at a nearby table, "Man, when this job is over, I'm looking forward to a victory meal!" He grinned over to Tifa, who was wiping down the countertop and stealing short glances at Cloud, who remained stationary in the corner of the kitchen.

"Yo! Spikey! Wake up!"

"…I'm not sleeping."

"Well then get your ass over here! The train's comin' soon and we gotta catch it!"

Wordlessly, Cloud walked over to Jessie, who cleared her throat and tried to ease the tension in the room. "So, ex-SOLDIER, huh? It'll be nice to have some extra muscle, right Barret?"

The larger man only grunted and raised an arm, "Don't make me or Tifa regret this, newcomer!"

Cloud only rolled his eyes, returning to the storm of thoughts raging in his mind. Bits and pieces, broken memories, fractured voices and… a girl in pink.

Beautiful, green eyes and hair that always smelled like strawberries, skin scented with sunflowers and lilies…

Thoughts of this girl made his heart race, and then there was the voice, that same tantalizing voice…

_Join… Cloud…_

_Together…_

… _take…what's ours._

_Mother…_

… _reunion…_

He wanted her. He wanted it all.

Cloud Strife would have it.

He knew this, as he followed his rag-tag 'coworkers' out the door and into the dim yellow light of Sector Seven.

_It begins tonight._

* * *

Aerith felt more at ease, now. And though she didn't know, Zack felt as if a huge weight was lifted off of his chest. He felt more like his old self now, and he intended to show Aerith as much of this renewed spirit as he could.

They had been snuggled together in the garden for some time now, one muscular arm wrapped around her shoulders and another slim hand absentmindedly twirling a spike of his hair. Together they watched the last glimmer of natural light disappear from the cracks in the plate above.

"Tomorrow, I'd like to go back to my church." Aerith looked up at him, eyes sparking and sending his heart into a familiar flutter that he'd never really forgotten.

"I would love to join you." He leaned down and brushed his lips across her forehead, "Hey, how are your flower carts doing?"

"Well… the one I used all the time, the cute one… the wheel fell off a little after you left."

"Fell off? How did that happen?"

"…One day, when I was selling flowers, I got… well, bothered a little, by a monster."

"What?!"

"Oh, I took care of it!" She quickly added, "But I used a fire spell, and the monster was behind the cart, and…"

"Ah. I gotcha." He smiled into her hair, "I can fix it for you, don't worry. But on one condition."

"Which is?"

"From now on, you let me take care of the monsters, okay?"

"I can live with that."

They sat together for a few moments longer. Suddenly, Aerith froze up.

"…Aer?"

Her eyes widened in horror, and she could do little more than gasp, as suddenly an explosion rocked the ground below them, rattling the plate above.

The streetlamps burst in a spectacular show of sparks and smoke, and people in the streets and nearby houses hollered out to each other. Dust clouds descended down from the upper plate, sending the slums into a grimy brown fog.

"Zack!" Aerith grabbed onto him tightly, her face buried in his chest.

"I got you, don't worry," He held her tight, squinting his eyes and holding his breath as the tremors ceased and the dust began to settle. People nearby coughed and screamed, children were crying and the only light below the plate was that of the small fires burning now in the piles of rubbish scattered around.

And while the tremors in the slums had quieted, there was a roar of voices echoing in Aerith's mind. They were the voices of hundreds of souls suddenly thrust away from Midgar into the Lifestream.

Thus was the aftermath of the bombing of Sector One.


	9. Aftermath

There was an odd scent in the air that roused Aerith from her sleep.

 _Wait…_ Sleep? When had she fallen asleep?

She sat up, flower-laden comforter falling from her breast as she lifted a palm to her forehead. Her head ached horribly.

And that smell wasn't helping. What on earth _was_ that?

It smelt of several things all mixed in together, like apple cider and nail lacquer and some other awful chemical she couldn't name. It was mixing with the scent of the slums and melding together into a pungent odor strong enough to make her eyes water. Yet beneath it all, she caught the scent of something faint and familiar; something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

Rising from her bed, the last curtains of sleep falling from her diluted eyes, she finally took note that it was nearly pitch black, save for a flickering candle on her dresser.

It was never dark down here. Where was the dim yellow glow from the streetlamps?

Aerith's eyes went wide as she suddenly remembered the events that transpired; the rush of voices and the icy reach of a hundred souls clamoring together unexpectedly into the Planet. She heard the cries and the sigh of slight relief mixed with the rumble and crash of the plate above.

She opened her door and felt her way through the narrow hall and down the stairs, hoping to find more answers.

Had these been normal circumstances, drinking tea with your girlfriend's mother alone in the middle of the night might have been awkward. But Zack couldn't find himself able to sleep, and Elmyra had been much too shaken when he had stumbled into the door earlier that night with a collapsed Aerith in his arms.

That, and the entire city had done enough shaking to rattle anybody's nerves.

She had decided that tea would serve well to calm her racing heart, and when offered, Zack kindly obliged. He was fine himself, but worried more for Aerith. She had acted so strangely, and had a frantic episode in his arms that ended with him carrying her slight body up a dark flight of stairs for her mother to tuck in to bed.

Of course, afterwards, he helped Elmyra find proper candles to keep the three of them from breaking any bones while bumbling around the darkened house. God knows this night had been full of enough excitement already.

He was lost in thought, mako eyes focused on the tea in front of him, when a soft noise from the stairs brought them both out of their quiet reveries.

"Mom...? Zack?"

"Aerith, are you all right?" Elmyra was on her feet in an instant, fawning over Aerith like a porcelain doll, hand cupping her cheek and eyes scanning her frame for any bruise or cut or scrape.

"I'm okay, but what happened?" She hugged her mother softly in reassurance, before looking towards the table.

"Some kind of explosion…" Zack stood up, "Power's been completely knocked out, too, so it must have been a reactor."

"A reactor? So that smell…"

"Mako." He grimaced; Zack remembered all too clearly the last time he smelled mako in the air like this, and didn't care to dwell on those memories right now.

But in Aerith's mind, the Planet only sighed, as if it had been relieved of a burden.

* * *

"…give me something hard."

"Okay…"

Tifa set a glass down, deftly swinging a bottle of liquor from the shelf behind her to pour in front of the quiet blonde SOLDIER. The others had already gone below, celebrating their first big hit together—which had been a success, of course, but left Tifa feeling a little uneasy. Cloud had been down there briefly, but after a loud argument with Barret, had come storming upstairs and sat at the bar, demanding a drink. Tifa was glad to oblige; she also hoped to have a few words with him privately (or, at least, semi-privately).

Sector Seven was far enough from Sector One to have escaped the power outage that crept over half the city; the muted TV above the bar kept alternating between a disheveled anchorman and the same series of images—reactor exploding, ambulances racing from the scene, and civilians rushing away from the streets clutching arms and shoulders and, in some cases, crying children…

Should they really be celebrating? Tifa sighed to herself.

And, still, there was Cloud. She had managed to get him to stay for this mission, but it didn't seem like he had planned on sticking around. She was desperate. She was selfish. She wanted him to stay, and was determined to convince him, even to just buy her some time to find the answers she sought after.

"So, Cloud… what are your plans now?"

He only shrugged, not looking up from his drink.

She persisted, "Have you thought about joining us?"

Still silence. "Please, Cloud…the planet is dying… Slowly but surely, it's dying, and it needs help, before Shinra…"

He scoffed upon hearing 'Shinra.' "So? So what?"

She stomped her foot, "What do you mean, 'so what?' Are you just going to get up and leave?"

He fell silent again, fingertips absently tracing the droplets of water on the glass before him.

"Are you going to throw away your promise?"

"Promise…"

Tifa's face fell, "So, you forgot…"

"…who cares." Cloud finished his drink, slamming the glass against the countertop. Just as he was standing up, Barrett came up, shaking his gun-arm at Cloud.

"You, god-damn SOLDIER-lapdog!" He threw a small sachet of gil at the blonde's chest, "There's yo damn money!"

Cloud caught the money with a smirk, stuffing it into his pocket. "What's your next mission?"

Tifa, who had been glaring daggers at Cloud, softened just a little. "So you will join us?"

"I'll do it for double."

"WHAT?! Who the hell do you think you are, you smug little shit?" He was about to lunge at Cloud, but Tifa swiftly hopped over the bar counter and intervened.

She whispered, "Hey, we're really hurting for the help, right?"

"God damn it Tifa…"

Cloud smirked and turned towards the door, hand waving flippantly in the air. "Fine, I'll do it for 3000."

Barret growled, clenching his fist, "2000!"

Tifa smiled, a bit hesitantly, and reached for Cloud's shoulder. "Thank you…"

He shrugged away from her touch, "Fine. 2000 it is. I'll be back later."

With that, he strode out of the bar, door slamming shut in his wake, leaving Barret to fume and Tifa to worry.

_Cloud… this isn't… this isn't the you I remember._

* * *

The echoes were sounding in his mind again; pieces of memories floating in his head like a jumbled puzzle.

_Living legacy._

_My dreams…_

… _they're yours now._

"My dreams…" Cloud rubbed his temple with a finger as he walked, stopping to stand beneath the pillar support tower. Unnatural blue light washed over his skin, complementing his unnatural blue eyes.

"What… are my dreams?"

He closed his eyes, when she was there again; the pink ribbon bobbing as she walked. Her hand brushed his chest and she squealed, _Oh, you! Don't be so silly…_

_So pretty… your eyes._

_Normally… people are more careful around flowers!_ An annoyed look, but beautiful green eyes. So beautiful…

Who was she?

He remembered this girl so clearly… why couldn't he remember her name?

Cloud sighed, sinking against the rusted fence behind him, sitting in the dust. He clenched his hair in his fists, gritting his teeth. Why couldn't he remember?

He wanted answers. He had to find this girl.

* * *

Power was restored to Sector Five shortly after daybreak, and after a short nap, Zack decided he wanted to get outside and survey the damage. Aerith, curious but wary, suggested that they walk to her church again.

After all, she wanted to check on her flowers. At least, that's the excuse she gave to Zack, who seemed awfully protective of her today.

 _Oh, right, last night… how on earth will I explain **that**_ _to him?_

A gentle hum brushed through her mind.

_No, I can’t tell him right now. Now's not the right time… Maybe he won't ask…?_

"Uh, Aer? Are… you okay?"

Aerith snapped her head up and found herself a breath away from two glowing blue eyes. "Oh!"

"You were staring again…?"

"I, um…" she stammered, feeling the blood already rushing up to her cheeks. "It's nothing, really. I'm still just a little shaken from last night, that's all."

"You sure?" He touched noses with her, grinning a little. _Just like he always used to…_ "If you're about to faint, I can carry you, you know."

"I'm fine, really… OH!" Suddenly, she was in mid-air, two arms wrapped around her waist and lifting her up as if she weighed nothing. "ZACK! Put me down!"

"I can hear you smiling!"

"Hear me… smiling? Are you nuts?" She laughed. Zack set her down in front of him, and before she could get another word out, turned his back towards her and knelt down.

"Get on!"

"Zack, what are you doing?"

"Come on!" He patted his back in emphasis, "Hop on! I'll piggy back you! Then I don't have to worry about you zoning out and wandering into anything."

"Oooh, you…" Aerith stomped her foot, then sighed, rolling her eyes. "Oh, fine." Gingerly, she placed her hands onto his broader shoulders, and before she had a chance to protest, he scooped her legs up along his sides and bolted down the path to the church. She let out a surprised yell, tightening her grip on him and holding on for dear life as he tore through the streets, the two of them gaining quite a few stares from other people going on about their business.

"Zaaaaaack!"

"I gotcha, don't worry!" Sharp turn to the right. "Oops, almost missed our turn."

"I… am going… to… aaaaahh!"

"What? I can't hear you, Aer!" Wide turn to the left. Stumble in a little dip in the road. "Ough, didn't see that!"

She winced, "You're gonna… you… oooooh…"

"What? Oh!" He stopped in his tracks, a disheveled Aerith gasping for air as he gently let her legs back down. Her arms stayed wrapped around his chest, her panting breath hot and short in his ear.

"Zack…" Gasp. "..you're…" Pant. "..crazy…!"

"We're here!"


	10. Slipping

Creaking open the heavy door of the church, Aerith was relieved to see her flowers, feeling a sense of peace fall over her like a warm blanket. Zack’s presence beside her amplified that calm feeling, putting her at ease. She all but ran to her flowerbed, kneeling on the broken floor beside them, gently brushing her fingers along the yellow petals.

Zack looked on, feeling a warm feeling spread within his heart. Good gods had he missed her. He slowly approached a pew and sat, watching her tend to her flowers in the quiet ambiance of the empty church.

Yellow and white lilies, growing in the middle of a dilapidated church, which itself sat on the outskirts of a slum. Zack mused quietly, watching Aerith’s gentle movements in the garden. How did flowers manage to grow here? How did Aerith keep them alive? How on earth did she cultivate the garden at her mother’s house so well?

He sat for several minutes, deep in thought, when he saw Aerith approach him and tuck a yellow lily into his left suspender.

“Here… for you.”

Zack looked down at the lily, and he smiled. Aerith smiled back, gently placing her hands on his chest.

“They say that yellow lilies symbolize remembrance and happiness. Lovers used to give them to each other, when they were reunited…”

Grinning, Zack stood up, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her up just enough to look into her eyes. Aerith threw her arms around his neck, smiling down at him, the air seeming just that bit lighter. Zack set her down, still looking into her eyes, still holding her so gently at her waist…the air between them seemed almost electric at that moment.

“Zack…” she held his shoulders, her hands warm even through the thick fabric of his sweater. She was so close to him at that moment, he could feel her breath just barely brushing past his lips. His hands fit so perfectly on her waist. Time was still. He leaned down.

Suddenly, Aerith’s face twisted into a grimace and she clenched her eyes shut, her grip tightening on Zack’s shoulders then loosening as she fainted, falling forward onto him. It felt like the ground itself was moving. Zack lost his footing, gripping onto Aerith tightly and leaning to sit back on the pew, holding her tightly as they rode out the quaking. Dust and wood splinters crashed from above them and Zack curled protectively to cover her. He felt large chunks of debris bounce off his back and a cascade of dust and dirt raining down. “I got you, Aerith. It’s going to be ok.” He wasn’t sure if she could even hear him. Maybe he was trying to convince himself. His heart was pounding in his chest, skin damp with nervous sweat.

After several agonizing seconds, the quaking had stopped. Zack opened his eyes, dust suspended in the air and darkening the already dimly-lit church. He coughed. “Aerith?” He gently shook her, but no response. He frowned, gently setting her to lie on the pew as he stood, checking her over for any injuries. _No…she’s ok. Breathing. Pulse._ He heard a rustle in the flowerbed and jumped to attention, turning to face the noise. Dust hung thickly in the air, obscuring the flowerbed from his short distance. He grabbed a broken chunk of wood, holding it defensively in front of him as he approached a shadowy figure in the flowerbed.

It was a person.

He looked up at the newly-created second hole in the ceiling, then back down to the figure, and he noticed a shock of spiky blonde hair…and a very familiar looking sword sticking out of the ground several feet away.

* * *

Everything hurt, yet he was numb. He felt nothing surrounding him, a vast empty vacuum. Not even shadows lived in this place.

White all around him. White and empty.

_Hey… you ok?_

He groaned. His eyes wouldn’t open.

_Back then… you got by with just a couple of scraped knees._

‘Back then?’

_Never mind. Right now, you need to focus on yourself. You need to get up. Move something._

A tiny wriggle of his hand. _Good. Easy does it…slow, and steady._

A warm touch on his shoulder. ‘Yeah, yeah. I know, I know.’

_“Hello…”_ A familiar voice, echoing in the distance. Could there be echoes in a vacuum? How did you measure distance across a vast sea of nothing?

‘Who are you?’

The whiteness faded, replaced by hot burning flames. A decrepit, cackling voice, was it a woman?

**_REUNION…_ **

Cloud’s eyes snap open.

****

‘Who are you?!’

His head moves. He can move his head. A glimmer of silver hair, illuminated with the red glow of a town burning to the ground.

“I…am…your… **everything.** ”

Green, glowing eyes. Lifeless eyes. Hateful eyes. A town burning to the ground.

**_Reunion… my children._ **

****

That alluring voice…

Cloud saw the images melt down into utter darkness before him, leaving only the voices. He grabbed his head, cringing and groaning in pain. Urging them to stop, trying so desparately to drown out the voices that threatened to consume him.

"Oh Cloud… there is still so much more to be done…"

_Hello…hello in there!_

Darkness all around him.


	11. Run to You

“God damn you, Barrett!!” Tifa was pounding her hands on his chest, tears streaming down her face. They stood in the underground access tunnel between Sector 6 and 7, the acrid smell of smoke and mako burning her nostrils as she sobbed. “We have to go back! We …have to go back…”

Barrett silently took the brunt of her fists, face stoic and arms unmoving at his sides. “Tifa… Tifa we had to! Otherwise we woulda been toast! You saw the firepower those Shinra assholes had!”

“We can’t just leave him there! We can’t, Barrett!”

“Tifa we can’t go back for him! What’s done is done!” Tifa released her fists and sank to her knees, Barrett catching her in his arms and kneeling with her. She sobbed into his shoulder. “He can’t be.. he can’t be! He just came back into my life, he can’t be dead! We have to go back!”

Sighing, Barrett tried another strategy. “What makes you think he’s dead Teef? Ain’t he got that superhuman SOLDIER shit going on? What’s to say he ain’t survived? All we do by going back is put ourselves in danger.” He gently pulled away, hand and gun-arm on her shoulders, pushing her off his shoulder to look her in the eyes. “We gotta keep going. Cloud’ll be fine. No dumbass fall is gonna be the thing to take him out. But for now, you gotta keep goin forward.”

Tifa sniffed, then looked down at her clenched fists. After a moment of thought, she nodded. “You’re right. He was a SOLDIER. He can survive what you or I couldn’t…he’ll come back. Right? He came back once … he’ll come back again.”

Barrett nodded, looking sternly at Tifa. “You know I’m right. And we have to move.” He looked around. “We gotta get back to the bar and regroup. Shit’s done hit the fan tonight and we’re gonna have a lot of fallout from it.

* * *

  
  


He knew from the moment he laid eyes on that hair. He knew the moment he saw the sword. But his heart was in disbelief.

“Cloud?!”

Zack dropped the makeshift spear he had grabbed, the piece of wood clattering to the floor as he rushed to his friend’s side, putting a hand to his shoulder and gently shaking. “Hello?!”

Nothing. But he saw the rise of his chest---breathing! He’s alive! Excitedly, he shook a bit harder, and saw Cloud’s left hand twitch ever so slightly.

 _Come on man, wake up!_ He gently patted the side of Cloud’s face.

“Hello! Hello in there!”

Cloud’s eyes shot open, mako blue meeing mako blue. _Holy shit._ Zack lunged forward, wrapping Cloud into a bear hug.

“Cloud! You’re alive! Oh man… after what happened, when I woke up, and you were gone, I thought you were a goner. You have no idea how relieved I am to see you!”

Cloud shook his head drowsily, the haze on his brain lifting. He felt aches and soreness all over his body from the fall he had just taken, but so far, nothing seemed to be broken.

_Back then… you got by with just a couple of scraped knees._

Zack let go of his friend, looking at his face. Cloud felt a flicker of recognition, then a sharp stabbing pain in his head. Zack frowned as Cloud reached a hand up to grasp at his temple, face twisted in agony.

“Hey, man, that was a pretty bad fall, are you hurt? Maybe I shouldn’t have hugged you. Shit, is your neck ok? I remember in SOLDIER training that we weren’t supposed to move victims with neck injuries…but hey, you’re moving your head now, so that means you’re ok right?”

Cloud opened his eyes and looked down. Flowers? He frowned then scanned the room, his breath hitching when his eyes land on the pew several feet away.

_Pink dress. Brown hair._

A memory of warmth, hands on his skin, a gentle kiss on a humid summer night.

Cloud stood up quickly, walking towards her and kneeling in front of the pew, Zack hot on his heels.

“Who is she?”

Zack looked at him, frowning. “Aerith. I never got the chance to introduce you to her before we left back then, but she’s just…” he smiled, “She’s just great, man. She got knocked out during that last quake, I was letting her sleep it off when I saw you laying there.” Zack knelt beside Cloud, placing a hand on Aerith’s cheek, her face looking more peaceful and sleeplike than it had a few minutes before. Cloud felt a sharp pang of jealousy rise up his throat and he shook his head, dismissing the feeling.

“Aerith…” Cloud looked at her, face unreadable. As if on cue, Aerith stirred, fluttering her eyes open and coughing. She picked her head up, looking at the two boys. “Zack, what happened…”

Zack jumped up from his kneeling stance, moving to sit next to her on the pew, helping her sit up. “Another quake. Possibly another explosion, but it felt a lot closer than the one yesterday.” He cupped her face with his hand, concerned, and momentarily forgetting about their new audience. “Are you ok, Aer?”

Aerith frowned. “I felt…” She stopped herself, and shook her head. “I think I was just in shock, that’s all. I feel fine now.” She lied. Her heart felt like it was on fire, her head was a cacophony of confused voices lost in the valley between life and death. She closed her eyes, then opened them, looking around the room and stopping as she met a second pair of glowing, mako-blue eyes. “Oh!.”

Cloud felt a swelling pressure in his chest as they locked eyes. Aerith smiled softly. “Hi, there. Who are you?”

Zack answered for him before Cloud could even open his mouth. “Aerith, this is Cloud. I, uh…” Zack pointed up at a second hole, directly over her flowerbed. “I think he fell.”

Aerith sat up straight and leaned forward, carefully examining Cloud, taking his arm into her hand. “Hm.” She looked him over and Cloud felt his skin becoming hot under her touch, his face reddening. This, thankfully, went unnoticed by Zack, who was focused on Aerith. Aerith, thankfully, had closed her eyes to work a gentle healing spell. Cloud felt the gentle brush of a curative magic sweep over his superficial wounds and soothe his aching bones. He closed his eyes, losing himself in the feel of it, sighing. His mind felt clear…what was happening?

Zack’s voice returned to his ears, his senses coming back from the fog. “…house. Man, her mom can cook. I bet she wouldn’t mind if you came by too, especially if I tell her that you were with me when everything went down. I can’t believe you’re here, you’re ok.” Zack stood up, patting Cloud on his shoulder gently, then walking back to the flowerbed, his eyes landing on the Buster Sword.

Carefully, Zack reached out to grip the handle, lifting it out of the dirt and exhaling as he did so. _Honor… dreams…_ He smiled, latching the sword to his back, feeling the familiar weight press against him. He turned around, grinning at Aerith and Cloud. “Those hedgehog pies don’t stand a chance, now! I guess we’ll have to get you a sword of your own, Cloud. I bet we could find a weapons dealer easily enough. It won’t be any Buster Sword, but we can get you your own bonafide Cloud Special! I’ll pick up some merc jobs and save up some money for us. I know we have to lay low for now, but at least...” Cloud shook his head, Zack’s rambling words fading as he looked back at Aerith, who sat before him with a gentle warmth on her face. The uneasy, tumultuous feelings swirling inside him came to a crashing halt when he looked at her. Memories of this girl filled his mind, yet he didn’t really remember her. She, obviously, did not know him, yet here she was, welcoming him like an old friend.

He turned, feeling a wave of anger rising as he saw the sword—his sword—on Zack’s back, and he stood up, staring daggers into his face. “Give me back my sword.”

Zack stopped short mid-sentence, looking at Cloud. “Buddy, you barely say two words to me since you wake up, and you say that? Do you remember anything that happened?”

Cloud shook his head, “Nope. Can’t say that I do.” A pained look came over Zack’s face.

“Cloud, what do you remember? Do you remember anything from Nibelheim?”

A flash of memory. A young girl sitting beside him on the water tower. An endless ocean of stars above them. A promise.

Cloud grasped his temple again, wincing in pain as the uneasy presence snaked its way around his brain. A town covered in flames. The man in the black cape.

He felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Hey, man, you ok?”

A softer hand on his other shoulder. The flames dissipate. He opens his eyes, seeing both Zack and Aerith looking at him with concern.

Aerith spoke first. “I think we should get him back to my place, Zack.” Zack nodded, standing up and offering Cloud his hand. Cloud silently stood up, turning towards Aerith, as Zack slowly let his hand fall to his side. Aerith gave Zack a look over Cloud’s shoulder and Zack shrugged.

“Ok…” she looked up at Cloud, who had his eyes fixated on her. “Well, let’s go. The streets may be rough after that last explosion, but…well, I have two SOLDIER bodyguards with me now, so I think we can manage.”


End file.
